


a wintertime thing (you know, seasonal)

by crazyassmurdererwall (smartalli)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Mates, Stiles gets kidnapped, Winter, by a Yeti, no that's not a euphemism, pack bonding trip
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 10:55:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29452665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smartalli/pseuds/crazyassmurdererwall
Summary: Was pairing Stiles and Isaac up on their pack bonding trip the worst idea Derek has ever had?No, probably not.But right now it feels like it.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey & Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 67
Kudos: 552





	a wintertime thing (you know, seasonal)

**Author's Note:**

> Are there caves in the back country at Sierra-at-Tahoe? Not that I’m aware of! Is there one in this story? Sure is!
> 
> This is set in some sort of nebulous alternate universe where Allison, Erica, and Boyd didn’t die, Jackson didn’t leave, Cora is here, and Scott is not. Make of that what you will.
> 
> Much love to my friend Kat ([cnomad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cnomad/pseuds/cnomad)) for always being there to workshop things when I have questions like HEY SO WHAT MOVIE DO YOU THINK ERICA WOULD MAKE THE PACK WATCH AT MOVIE NIGHT THAT IS ALSO ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE???
> 
> Life would absolutely suck without you in it.

**a wintertime thing (you know, seasonal)**

* * *

The pack bonding trip had been Stiles’ idea – pack bonding trips were usually Stiles’ idea – and Derek had gone along with it primarily because if he’s learned anything since becoming the Alpha of a pack with Stiles in it, it’s that when Stiles has an idea he’s usually, a: right, and b: not liable to _shut up about the fact that he’s right_ until someone starts listening to him and he gets his way.

Besides, Derek likes skiing, and Tahoe is a short, easy trip. So he figured this was one time he’d get a rare win-win.

It is not a rare win-win.

Derek should’ve known better. He really should’ve.

It’s been quiet recently. Too quiet. Beacon Hills hasn’t been attacked by anything in at least the last four months, and though Stiles and Jackson have made some supernatural friends at Stanford, including a wereotter named Charlie who likes to follow them around like a lost, affectionate puppy – _Dude, Derek, there are_ wereotters _...did you know wereotters were a thing??? –_ his pack have all been safe at their respective colleges since they started in September.

He should’ve known that all of that quiet and calm meant nothing good. He should’ve known that scheduling a celebratory end of semester pack bonding trip meant they were basically asking for trouble.

He should’ve known.

“Jesus, you’re worthless,” Jackson says to Isaac, judgy eyes out in full force.

“Jackson,” he says immediately, like an impulse, even though he absolutely agrees with him. Stiles isn’t that hard to keep track of. You just follow the flailing limbs and running mouth.

“What?” he says, about a pound of irritation and judgment seeping into his voice. “ _I_ wouldn’t have lost him.”

Which is a fair point, actually, even if it is colored by his recent irritation with Derek for splitting Jackson and Stiles up this morning. Despite what Jackson thinks, he hadn’t done it to be an asshole or split up their bromance. He’d done it because this is a pack _bonding_ trip, and Jackson and Stiles are bonded just fine. They practically live out of each other’s pockets now, ever since Scott left and they patched up whatever the hell issues they had with each other. But Stiles and Isaac still have a Scott-shaped space hovering between them, and Derek had figured it couldn’t hurt to leave them alone together to maybe talk a little, work some of that shit out finally.

Apparently Derek was wrong. But then Derek is wrong about a lot of things. And now Stiles is paying for it.

Derek feels a little bit sick, and a lot unmoored.

“Technically I didn’t lose him,” Isaac says, and Derek grits his teeth and is gratified to notice that every single other member of their pack has turned equally judgy, irritated eyes at him. Now is hardly the time to argue semantics.

“Right,” Jackson says, voice dripping with venomous disdain, “well I wouldn’t have let him get _taken_ either.”

There’s a pregnant pause while they all stare Isaac down until finally Boyd asks softly, arms crossed over his navy blue ski jacket, “What the hell were you thinking?”

Isaac winces a little and takes a step back, his footstep crunching the snow.

Boyd’s quiet judgment always has a way of landing heavier than anyone else’s.

Isaac shakes his head. “I didn’t-”

“You did,” Erica says, cutting him off. “You walked away from your partner. Your _human_ partner.”

“We’re in the middle of Sierra-at-Tahoe!” he says, gesturing around them. “Who thought a Yeti would be a problem here?”

“That’s not the point, Isaac,” Allison says, shaking her head and wrinkling her pink tipped nose, brown curled hair bouncing across her shoulders from underneath her striped, knitted hat.

Isaac shakes his head again, glares at Derek. “Why would you pair me with Stiles, anyway?”

The implication, of course, being that this is _Derek’s_ fault. That _Derek_ is responsible.

Derek clenches his fists, pricks his own palms with the tips of his claws, drawing blood.

“You can’t be this dense,” Cora says from her spot next to Allison. When Isaac doesn’t respond she gives him a flat look and says pointedly, “The whole purpose of this pack bonding trip was to get those of us who _aren’t_ bonded to _bond._ ”

She lifts her eyebrows at him and gestures between herself and Allison with an open hand.

Everyone knows that Cora and Allison aren’t close, that they still have some issues to work out between them. And that was why Derek had paired them together today. He’d paired Jackson and Erica together for the same reason. And while Lydia and Boyd don’t have any issues with each other, they’re not exactly buddies. They’re not calling each other to hang out.

“You’re the only one of us who has a problem with Stiles.”

There are gaps in Derek’s pack – spaces full of anger and hurt and unsaid shit. Stuff they’ve all let brew for too long. And if they don’t fix those problems now, Derek is afraid they’ll never be able to. And the space between Stiles and Isaac is bigger than the rest.

So when Stiles had come to him all excited, hopped up on Red Bull and brimming over with untameable energy, going on and on about how they should _go on a pack ski_ _slash snowboard_ _trip and Tahoe is really close so it could totally be a day trip even if you don’t want to spring for a cabin or whatever even though that wou_ _ld be_ awesome _‘cause who wants to drive home after a long day on the slopes when your muscles are achy and all you want to do is burrow down into like a huge fucking mass of blankets in front of a fire with a cup of hot chocolate? Although burrowing down into a huge puppy pile would be so much better but that’s totally your decision dude_ , Derek had simply said yes.

And when Stiles had stopped talking for about a half a minute, his eyes going wide and his mouth dropping open, his scent blooming with delighted surprise, Derek had counted that as the personal victory it was.

He’d said yes for Stiles because he’d been so excited and because he’d asked (and because Derek sometimes has a hard time telling Stiles no) – that’s definitely true. And he’d said yes a little bit for himself too, because he likes skiing. That’s true too.

But he’d also said yes for the pack, for two reasons.

The first was because he thought they’d like it. He’d wanted to give them something for having made it through their first semesters with flying colors, and it’s the kind of thing his mom would’ve done too if she were still alive, if she were still leading this pack like she should be. She would’ve been happy to indulge Stiles and his request because she liked to give her pack things, and she always had a soft spot for the humans among them.

She would’ve loved Stiles. Derek is sure of that.

Derek likes to give his pack things too. He likes to provide for them. He likes being the one they count on and rely on and look to. It’s a lot of work, and a hell of a lot of responsibility, but Derek finally feels like he’s coming into his own, becoming the kind of Alpha his mom would be proud of.

And the second reason was because...he thought it would be good for them. He thought it might give them a chance to step out of their norm, to shake things up a bit, to change their scenery and maybe give them a chance to change the way they see each other. The way they relate to each other. Maybe close some of those spaces up.

Derek had never felt more like his mom than when he was making that decision.

Except now Stiles has been taken and they’re standing ankle deep in the snow at Sierra-at-Tahoe, arguing way too loudly, and Derek is very, very glad they’re in the backwoods, alone, away from the normal runs, because he doesn’t know how the hell he’d explain any of this to anyone passing by.

He’s sure his mom wouldn’t have screwed this up.

“You think Jackson and I are making each other friendship bracelets?” Erica says, shifting her weight from one side to the other, snow crunching underneath her.

“No, we’re not,” Jackson agrees, glare focused on Isaac, “but no matter what, I wouldn’t have walked away from her today because she’s my _partner_.” He pauses a beat then says, voice rising as he takes a step forward, “Unlike you, who walked away and let my _best fucking friend_ get snatched.”

“Hey guys?” Stiles’ voice calls out, bright and cheerful and sugary sweet and a little crazed, echoing out from the cave entrance in front of them. His voice sounds like it’s made out of manic exclamation points. “If we could maybe stop with the fighting and start with the rescuing, that would be _super_! My friend is getting _pretty_ restless in here, and he has some _super_ sharp claws that he’s holding _right_ _next to_ some of my _very_ sensitive bits!”

“Why do you sound like an unhinged kindergarten teacher?” Cora calls out.

“Well,” Stiles calls back, “it turns out _Mr. Yeti_ is a lot like a baby in that he doesn’t understand a _single_ _word_ I’m saying, but he _does_ understand my tone! And whenever he hears a tone that’s even the _tiniest_ bit sharp, his _very_ lethal claws get _super_ close to my _most vulnerable areas_! And it probably goes without saying, but I would _really_ like to avoid being maimed today! Thanks!”

“Are you sure it’s a Yeti?” Lydia calls out to him. “I thought they were only found in Asian countries like Nepal! Or Russia! Bhutan?”

“Yep!” Stiles calls back. “This is _definitely_ a Yeti, and you are also _definitely_ right about that, and that is _for sure_ a puzzle worth exploring, but I feel like that’s the kind of thing we can do at a later date? Maybe when I’m _not_ in this cave and in some _serious_ danger of being lunch?”

“I say we just let Isaac go in and distract him so Stiles can slip out,” Jackson says, turning a challenging stare Isaac’s way that Isaac immediately returns.

“And what about when he takes me? How would you get me out?”

Jackson gives him a smile that’s all teeth. “Who says we’d try to get you out?”

“Enough,” Derek says, and they both fall silent, Isaac’s head dropping as he immediately looks away, Jackson’s teeth gritting as he stands his ground. Derek pauses a beat and eyes them, then turns to Allison. “You didn’t happen to bring any weapons with you, did you?”

She lets out a sigh of regret and frustration, her eyes glancing briefly at the cave entrance.

“I am not hiding a crossbow under my ski jacket, no.”

Which means there’s really only one option.

Derek has never faced a Yeti before, but it’s not like it matters. He’s not leaving Stiles in that cave, and he’s definitely not letting anyone else go in there. He won’t lose more pack members.

He turns to Boyd. “You’re in charge. Keep the fighting down. We don’t want to irritate this thing more, cause it to lash out. And don’t let them do anything stupid.”

He waits until he gets a nod from Boyd then starts to walk over to the cave entrance when he feels a hand on his arm. He stops, turns, looks down at the hand then back up at its owner: Cora.

“I’m coming with you.”

“No. You’re not.”

“ _Derek-_ ”

“ _Cora._ ”

She stares him down but he stares right back until she finally relents, shaking her head and clenching her jaw as she drops her hand. He reaches up and gives her shoulder a squeeze then briefly cups the back of her head, giving her a look before he turns to face everyone else.

“None of you are to come in after me, do you understand?”

He waits until everyone gives him a nod, turning to Cora one last time for one more nod from her before he turns, strides forward across the snow and then into the entrance of the cave.

It’s a bit musty smelling inside, and Derek steps over the bones of small animals littering the entrance, nose wrinkling as he steps over larger sets of bones the further in he goes: a deer, a bear, and then finally at least two sets that are human.

Derek clenches his fists, stares down at those bones. He’s getting Stiles out of this fucking cave.

He shifts into his Beta form, claws out, and scents for his packmate. And even under the musty, earthy smell of the cave, even under the foul scent of rotting meat coming from somewhere in front of him, he can pick up the oh-so-familiar, precious scent of Stiles – the sharp, sweet, refreshing tang of orange and pine and the crispness of paper overlaid by the fresh scent of his laundry detergent, his deodorant, his shampoo and conditioner, by the smallest hints of his dad and Jackson that always seem to linger on his skin – all of that beauty undercut by the sharp, noxious, stomach-turning scent of his rising anxiety and fear.

Derek doesn’t like it. Not one bit. Every last one of his instincts is urging him to race forward, to rip the head off of the one who would dare to take Stiles, to get claws in his belly, to make him _afraid_ , but Derek tamps his instincts down and walks calmly forward, teeth and claws out.

Derek isn’t even sure if this will work, but it’s the only thing he has, and so he rounds the corner slowly with his head up, heading straight toward Stiles, using his erratic heartbeat as his compass.

If nothing else, Derek can distract the Yeti long enough for Stiles to slip behind him and run out of the cave. He can make sure Stiles is safe.

The Yeti growls the moment he sees Derek, huge and hulking in front of Stiles, long white fur dirty and matted, and takes a step forward. But Derek stands his ground, takes another step in toward them, growls right back twice as loud, his red eyes shining, his desperate heart beating fast.

“Derek! Oh god, dude, I-”

The Yeti cuts him off with another growl, salivating mouth dropped open wide, and Derek matches him again.

“ _Derek_ -”

Before the Yeti can growl again, Derek takes another step forward, points at Stiles and growls out, deep from the barrel of his chest, the sound reverberating through the cave, “ _Mine._ _Mate._ _”_

The Yeti seems to falter at that, hesitating before giving a much smaller growl in response, and Derek knows he doesn’t understand the words Derek’s using. But that doesn’t mean he can’t understand what Derek means, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Stiles watching him, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

This isn’t how he’d ever intended to tell him. Derek had wanted it to be special, to be perfect...not for it to come when one of their lives was a stake, pulled out of him because he had no other choice.

But Derek’s life has always been far from perfect. He should’ve realized this would be no different.

He points again, emphatically, and this time his growl is deeper, more intense.

“ _Mine.”_

The Yeti snarls at him weakly but steps back and away from Stiles and Derek keeps his eyes on the Yeti and his teeth bared but calls for Stiles.

Stiles comes forward but Derek doesn’t breathe easier, doesn’t feel his heart start to slow until Stiles is behind him, until Derek can reach back and feel for himself that Stiles is there.

“Derek,” Stiles says softly, and Derek starts to back them up toward the entrance to the cave, eyes on the Yeti until they disappear around the corner and then he turns, pushes Stiles forward in front of them and they run out of the cave.

The minute they come bursting out of the cave the pack starts to come toward them but Derek shakes his head and tells them to move and they all stop in their tracks and reverse course, running as quickly as they’re able in the snow back toward the resort, back toward safety.

He’s not giving the Yeti a chance to snatch anyone else today.

When they’re finally clear Derek pauses briefly to check and make sure everyone is there before he turns on Stiles, gives him a quick once over, then pulls him in and kisses him with everything he has.

Stiles makes a little surprised noise then goes with it with gusto, hands moving to clutch at Derek’s back as Derek’s hands hold Stiles’ face to his.

When they finally pull back Stiles’ breath is coming heavy and his eyes are bright, and he says, “That was a hell of a way to tell a guy what he means to you.”

“Sorry,” Derek says, and he means it. God, he means it.

“Maybe I should have gotten taken a while ago.”

Derek growls in response and says, before pulling him back in, “Don’t you dare fucking joke about that.”

* * *

No one feels like hitting the slopes after that and if Derek is honest, he doesn’t want any of them out of his sight for the rest of the day. So they head back to the cabin Derek rented – which is so big it can only loosely be called a ‘cabin’ – change out of their ski clothes, and pile into the massive front room in a bundle of bodies and blankets and pillows while Derek starts a fire in the stone fireplace. Most of the pack argues over what movie to put on, and as Cora tell Lydia that if she tries to suggest The Notebook one more time someone’s throat is getting cut, Stiles and Isaac slip out and head upstairs.

Derek watches them go and, as Stiles hits the landing, he turns and gives Derek a smile before they disappear down the hallway. Derek watches the empty space for a little while longer, not turning away until he keys in to Stiles’ steady heartbeat, reassures himself that Stiles is fine.

He puts another log on the fire and then reminds everyone that it’s actually Erica’s turn to choose, and then turns to head into the kitchen to make popcorn with a smile while everyone else groans and Erica crows and snags the remote, standing in the middle of the pile.

Derek pulls out a big heavy bottomed pot and a lid and some kernels and oil and starts about making popcorn the way his dad taught him, years ago. It’s more finicky than microwave popcorn but a hell of a lot better, and Derek lets himself get lost in the routine of it, of making food for his pack, as he keys back into Stiles and Isaac’s heartbeats, as he checks in on them.

“Even and steady,” Jackson says as he walks into the kitchen, pulls some drinks out of the fridge, and maybe that should surprise him but it doesn’t, not anymore. He’s just grateful that someone else loves Stiles enough to worry about him, to check on him. To look out for him.

He never would’ve expected it to be _Jackson_ , of all people, but people can surprise you. Derek knows that. And he knows Stiles and Jackson have their own history together, something that started long before any of the rest of them came into either of their lives, even if Stiles and Jackson haven’t said exactly what that is.

“You know they make microwave popcorn now, right?”

“No kidding,” Derek says, voice flat. “You don’t say.”

Jackson gives him a twitch of a smile.

Derek dumps out the first batch into a big metal bowl to take into the other room, nudges it toward Jackson.

“My dad used to do this for the pack when he was alive. As soon as I was tall enough to reach the counter, he taught me too.”

Jackson picks up the little pot of butter Derek has melting on the stove, starts to pour it over the top of the popcorn in a very slow, thin ribbon. Then he sprinkles the whole thing with salt and starts tossing the bowl just like Derek’s dad taught Derek, flipping the popcorn over and over on itself until he’s satisfied it’s all mixed.

Derek never taught Jackson that.

Jackson finally looks over at him and shrugs, snags a few pieces and pops them into his mouth.

There’s a change in both Stiles and Isaac’s heartbeats, a quick uptick, and Jackson and Derek both look up at the ceiling and pause, wait, only looking away when their heartbeats return to normal.

“They’re fine,” Derek says eventually, because of course they are.

He’s still not sure if he’s saying it for his own benefit or for Jackson’s.

This is just...a big house, and after what happened earlier, Stiles and Isaac are too far away. He knows they need this time to work things out, to find common ground, but he...wants them closer. Wants everyone together.

Derek starts a second batch of popcorn instead.

He shows Jackson what to do, shows him what his dad taught him, and when that’s done they pour it into a few medium sized bowls. Jackson salts and butters those too, and then they head back into the other room and start handing out drinks and popcorn bowls as Erica presses play on her movie of choice to a room full of groans: Teen Witch.

Ten minutes in and he can see why they were all groaning. This movie is terrible. But fair is fair, and it was her turn to choose.

He wonders if this is how his parents felt during pack movie nights themselves, when they had to suffer through Derek and Laura groaning and moaning and complaining because it was Cora’s turn to choose and she chose The Care Bears Movie for the nineteenth, twentieth, twenty-first time. It’d seemed like torture to Derek at the time, but his parents had only smiled and said it was her turn to choose, and besides, it made her happy. And happy was good.

This movie is making Erica happy. He can’t imagine wanting to take that away from her.

Stiles and Isaac finally come downstairs and Derek watches as they make their way over, shoulders bumping, heads turned together. Stiles says, “Yeah?” and Isaac nods, and then Stiles looks up, sees what movie is playing.

“Teen Witch? Excellent choice, Erica!”

There’s another chorus of groans and Cora says, “You _like_ this movie?”

“ _Like_?” Stiles scoffs. “God, no. It’s terrible. I love it!” He points at Erica and says, “Tell me I haven’t missed the Top That scene!”

“Nope!” she says with undisguised glee.

“ _Yessss_ ,” he says and plops down in between Derek and Jackson.

Derek lifts his arm so Stiles can slot against him and sets the popcorn bowl in Stiles’ lap, dropping his arm to rest around Stiles’ shoulder. He expects Isaac to make his way over to Boyd and Erica or maybe Allison, but instead he waits until Stiles is situated before snagging a pillow and setting it down in front of Derek and Stiles. He sits down, leans back against their legs, and Stiles runs a hand over his head before handing over the popcorn bowl. Isaac takes some and hands the bowl back, and Derek reaches out, gives Isaac’s shoulder a squeeze. Isaac leans into the contact.

Stiles munches on his popcorn and takes the soda Jackson set aside for him and Derek ignores the movie in favor of nosing at Stiles’ hair, at his temple, feeling himself finally settle and relax.

“I moved my stuff into your room,” Stiles says softly.

“Good,” Derek says, turns Stiles’ face toward his with a finger to the chin, and gives him a soft, slow kiss, Stiles’ scent blooming around them, becoming richer, stronger. Derek relishes it, sinks into it. Stiles is always going to smell a little like Derek now, like his mate, and Derek preens at that. Stiles will carry Derek around with him the way he does his dad, and Jackson. A scent that telegraphs to the world the people who are most important to him.

When he pulls back Stiles’ eyelashes flutter open and he pauses for just a moment before he says, “We have a lot to talk about.”

They do.

“I’m your mate,” he says, voice soft and happy, and Derek feels his heart take a stutter step.

Derek nods slowly, unable to stop his smile from growing, eyes scanning Stiles’ face. “Mine.”

Stiles’ eyes drop down to Derek’s lips briefly before moving back up. He nods. “Yours.”

He leans in for one more kiss.

“Stiles! Stiles! Here it comes!”

Stiles pulls away from the kiss, licking his lips as he turns and leans back against Derek again. “ _Yessss._ Guys, get ready to feast your eyes on one of the cringiest, most eighties scenes ever filmed,” he says, arms spreading wide. “It’s going to change your _lives._ ”

Derek rolls his eyes, shakes his head. He seriously doubts that.

He slips a hand under Stiles’ t-shirt, rests it on his stomach, fingers splayed as he presses his nose into the back of Stiles’ head, breathes him in deep, pulling Stiles back to rest completely on him, to let Derek support him. Safe and in Derek’s arms.

There’s no way this movie has ever changed anyone’s life. Unless it’s for the worse.

But saying yes to Stiles?

That’s something else entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr at [crazyassmurdererwall](https://crazyassmurdererwall.tumblr.com). Stop on over and say hi if you like.
> 
> Also the Top That scene from Teen Witch is truly atrocious and cringy, and can be found on youtube here: [Top That](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oxxBXpnn2Jw).


End file.
